Chapter 67
ROB AND I both stood frozen in place, watching the intruder right next to his mother.
Mona didn’t miss a beat. With astonishing speed, she lifted the knife she’d been using to chop vegetables and turned it in her hand.
She swung in a horizontal arc and caught the intruder on the upper chest. The blade slid up across his collarbone and glanced off his face.
Overall, it was an impressive strike for someone who wasn’t a knife fighter by training.
The man let out an odd, strangled cry. It wasn’t until that moment I realized he was one of the rednecks who had confronted us at Hildebrand’s Sports Bar earlier. He was the one with the crooked nose, the one Gary had punched. Now Gary’s mother seemed to be finishing the fight.
Crooked Nose tumbled toward the door he’d just kicked in. Blood leaked from his face as well as his shoulder. His heavy jacket concealed any blood coming from his chest. But his face looked like a mess.
Then he turned and sprinted back into the garage.
As I darted through the door to chase him, Mona came to my side.
She still held the bloody knife out in front of her.
She looked like something out of a horror movie.
I wasn’t sure if she looked more like a villain or a victim.
Either way, I wasn’t about to tell her to get back inside.
Mona pointed with the knife to the open side door leading outside. There was a splotch of blood visible on the concrete.
Rob joined us a few seconds later, along with Gary. Rob glanced at his mother’s grip on the knife but didn’t say anything. It felt like it wasn’t the first time Rob had seen his mother holding a weapon. Then he looked at the blood on the ground. He took a step outside and studied the ground.
“I can follow this trail.”
I said, “And run into an ambush? It feels like they’re trying to flush us out of the house. We need a plan. Time is on our side. The longer we can drag this out, the more likely it is the sheriff’s deputies might show up.”
“We’ll see,” Gary said. “They said they’re on their way.”
Rob said, “This is an opportunity I’d rather not waste.
I know the area, and with the snow, I’ll be able to spot movement from up there.
It’s as dark as the inside of a broken refrigerator down here.
All the advantages are on our side.” He waved us into the house as he jogged back inside.
By the time I stepped through the kitchen and into the hallway, Rob already had a coat roughly on and a rifle and a revolver in hand.
Rob gave me the revolver and a half-full box of ammunition. “This is for your personal protection. I’ve been using this .30-30 Winchester since I was thirteen years old. I’m going to get up on top of the ridge. I should be able to see everything between the two houses from there.”
“I guess I’m the bait?”
“Not exactly. But I don’t want Pops or my mom getting mixed up in this.”
I shot a look toward the couch and saw Chet sitting up now but appearing confused.
“And Gary isn’t the best choice,” Rob continued. “I’m afraid that leaves you.”
“Oh, boy. Everyone likes getting picked for an activity.”
Then we saw another figure as it flashed past a rear window. Joke time was over. Now it was time to show these scumbags that not everyone they encountered was a victim.
My guess was that Arnold Marks—or Arjan Marku—was so used to people rolling over as soon as he used a little muscle that we’d thrown him for a loop.
He couldn’t just walk away. Not after the way I’d insulted him at the car lot.
I’d known he’d do something in retaliation.
But I hadn’t realized it would be quite this serious.
It was a mistake I was hoping he’d regret for the rest of his life.